


Beating Heart

by ArdeaJestin



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Badass Rey, Demon Kylo Ren, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Dominant Kylo Ren, Dubious Consent, Dubious Morality, F/M, Fuck Or Die, Hate Sex, I'm Sorry, Kylo Ren is Not Nice, Oral Sex, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:00:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22105201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArdeaJestin/pseuds/ArdeaJestin
Summary: Monster hunter Rey needs help of a very particular kind, and Kylo is the best person to give it to her. The only problem is, he's not a person at all, but a demon with a mighty appetite to satiate.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 49
Kudos: 297





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> There is no excuse for this, so I'm not even going to try.

“I need information.”

“About what?”

“About sex.”

Kylo pauses for a moment before taking a leisurely sip from his glass of Stoli on the rocks. Given the words that just came out of a pair of sweet, pink, usually innocent lips, he knows he should act surprised or even shocked. A _human_ would, certainly, but he’s encountered his fair share of lunacy over the past centuries, so if he’s going to be bothered he’d rather wait for the rest of the story.

“Sex,” he repeats, then finally looks sideways to the latest patron who entered Kalinka.

A young human female with peachy skin, shortish brown hair and a slight frame that hides powerful muscles – yes, he’s certainly seen Rey Johnson pack a punch before. He knows her, of course. Everyone in the Underworld knows Rey and her pathetic band of idealist friends who hunt immortals and try to right everything they find wrong. Vampires have declared them their sworn enemies, because there’s not a damn thing these fuckers do that isn’t shrouded in dramatics. Werewolves have allied with them if only to piss the vampires off.

Demons, thankfully, don’t have that sort of _esprit de corps_. Kylo doesn’t give a shit what any other demon does asides himself, and he’s decided to remain neutral, or rather, to sell intelligence to whosoever is buying. In this case, Rey.

He downs the rest of his drink and she rolls her eyes before ordering another for him. Her cheeks are rosy, either from the cold outside or from embarrassment, it’s hard to tell.

“Believe me, I’d rather ask anyone else...”

“Save it,” Kylo replies. “I’m all too aware of how prudish you humans are. Do you have a specific question, or do you want me to pain a broad picture for you? See, when a boy and a girl love each other very much...”

“Shut the fuck up and let me talk,” she interrupts him, and orders a drink for herself.

This is new. A smile flickers over Kylo’s mouth. “I didn’t picture you as the kind to drink on duty.”

She ignores him and takes a gulp of her White Russian before continuing. “Like everyone else, I always believed vampires were particularly drawn to virgins.”

“They are. They’ll tell you it’s _tradition_ , but deep down, it’s just some bullshit competition they get off on. Sinking their teeth into a virgin is like winning a gold medal, and you can bet these pricks keep a tally.”

Rey wrinkles her nose. “Then there’s something I don’t understand. They always seem to be drawn to me more than anyone else in our group. As if… as if they can _smell_ me or something.”

Kylo grins in earnest now. “Are you telling me that you’re a virgin, Johnson?”

“No. I’m telling you the opposite. I’m not, and I don’t understand why they’re acting like I am.”

Now, this is getting interesting. He decides to enjoy the moment, draw it out a little before giving her what she came for. He always spends his evenings at Kalinka – it reminds him of home, Mother Russia, and demons tend be nostalgic – so he's not exactly hard to find, but she has to be desperate if she braved the freezing temperatures and the snow to seek him out.

“Just so we’re clear,” he says, swiveling on his seat to face her, “when you say you’re not a virgin, are we talking fooling around under the bleachers, or actual rupturing of the hymen?”

“You are vile,” she replies, disgust plain on her face. “But, for the sake of getting facts straight, yes, I took part in intercourse. There wasn’t any blood, though. I did gymnastics for years, so I guess my hymen was gone by then, which makes even less sense.”

Kylo tilts his head. “Such a clinical way to describe that magical moment you became a woman. I’m guessing that whoever the poor jerk was, he wasn’t much of a lover.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Actually, it’s quite essential. You see, those little blood-sucking bastards you wish to impale at the end of a stick don’t care about technicalities. They want to be the first to make someone scream – whether in pleasure or pain, it’s all the same to them.”

Rey sets her glass down on the counter with a thud and thinks for a moment. “So you mean…?”

“Three thrusts on the couch of your high school boyfriend’s TV room don’t count for shit. Have you ever been in love?”

This time, Kylo knows the flush on her face has nothing to do with the weather outside. Rey bites her lower lip and looks away.

“Never mind that,” he says, lowering his voice a pitch. “Have you ever been fucked within an inch of your life?”

“This conversation is over,” she replies icily.

“I’m trying to help you, Johnson. If the answer is no, they’re going to keep sniffing you out and making your job harder.”

“You call this _helping_?”

An idea forms in Kylo’s mind and he feels a stir of something halfway between arousal and amusement. Rey is entirely too virtuous and pure for his taste, but she’s far from being dowdy. If he's being honest, he can’t say he never noticed how appealing her ass looks in the tight jeans she wears, or how creamy and soft the skin of her cleavage is. He hasn’t partaken in a while – several years, in fact, simply because it got so repetitive that he had rather work his way through the infinite list of must-read books he accumulated throughout the decades – but this seems like it would be anything but monotonous. If she fucks the same way she fights, he's in for a ride. 

“I could do it.”

She looks at him blankly. “Do what?”

_Fuck you within an inch of your life. Make you scream._ “Ensure that no vampire will want his way with you because someone else got there first.”

“How would you do that?”

She’s almost endearingly naive, and it makes the challenge even more thrilling. He can't wait to uncover what filthy thoughts are lurking beneath the surface of that immaculate exterior. “Do I have to spell it out for you? You, me, a bottle of Stoli and a nice king size bed.”

Rey’s eyes widen and she snorts out a laugh. “You can’t be serious.”

“Why not? I hate vampires, humans, and my fellow demons alike, so it’s not like I’ll be bragging about it to anyone. I can guarantee you complete discretion. Not to mention that it’s impossible for me to impregnate you or transmit any sort of disease. You can’t hope for a more solid proposal than that.”

She looks like she wants to throw the rest of her White Russian in his face – or rather, she wants to look like she does. But she’s tempted. She’s toppling. He can sense it, a wave of heat coming off her body, a ripple of electricity on her skin. It’s all he can do not to lick his lips to savor it.

“What would you get out of it?” she asks, lifting her chin in a show of contempt. “I’m sure you would charge more than I can afford.”

“I’m willing to bargain,” he replies. Having her pretty little mouth around his cock should be payment enough, but he decides to leave that part out for now. “However, like any self-respecting demon, I will draw up a contract. Are we agreed?”

She taps her fingers on the counter nervously, sizes him up with a dark glare, and for a split second Kylo feels like he’s the one who’s toppling. If he had a pulse, he’s almost certain his heart would be beating a little bit faster.

“Agreed.”


	2. Chapter 2

This was a bad idea. No, a terrible idea. In fact, it’s so terrible Rey has good hopes that she’ll snap to her senses and back out of it before it’s too late.

She watches her feet advance on the snow covered street, certain that each step will be the last before she turns back. It hasn’t happened yet, but then Kalinka is still a few blocks away. _Left, right, left, right._ True, there is a certain twisted, fucked up logic to it. What Kylo said is factually true. _Right, left, right, left._ Just because it’s factually true, that doesn’t make it morally acceptable. He doesn’t have a conscience, but he has the excuse of not being human. What excuse does she have? None.

Besides, there’s about a million ways this plan could go wrong.

Rey stops next to a lamppost. Scratch that. Actually, there’s really only one way this could go wrong: Kylo could kill her. He’s killed before, hundreds of times. Not out of sadistic pleasure or desire for power. Demons aren’t driven by the same unrelenting bloodlust as other foul creatures, and they certainly don’t have a master plan to take over the world. But if you pay them well enough, they will snuff out a life without a moment of hesitation.

Who’s to say someone didn’t hear about her plan and paid Kylo to dispose of her? She’s got more enemies than she can count, perhaps even more than she can name. Of course, a contract in due form should settle the matter. For his kind, a written agreement is binding to the extent that they literally can’t perform any action that would break it – _in theory_. There must be loopholes, and he’s had centuries to find out each and every one of them.

No matter which way you look at it, it’s madness. But she keeps walking, because she needs to fix this problem. Rey despises demons, but it’s nothing compared to the hate she feels for vampires, and she’ll do just about anything to get an edge over them.

She sighs inside her scarf and shoves her hands deeper inside her parka. None of this would have happened if she’d only found a decent boyfriend in college to have sweet, entirely respectable sex with instead of devoting herself to the cause of ridding her corner of the world of paranormal parasites.

When she arrives in front of Kalinka, she stops again. _You can still turn back_ , she tells herself. _Turn back. Turn back NOW._

Curiosity gets the better of her. She wants to know if Kylo will actually follow through. As long as she doesn’t sign anything, she’s still a free agent.

Also, she _really_ needs a drink.

It’s nearly closing time so the bar is pretty much empty, but Kylo is at his usual spot at the counter, basking in the red glow of the lamps while some atrocious Russian techno blasts plays on the loudspeakers. He’s smoking a cigarette and glances at her just as he exhales a cloud of smoke.

At that moment, she is uncomfortably reminded of another reason why she might have accepted his offer, preposterous as it is. Even though she always holds her ground in front of him, she finds him unnerving, much more so than other creatures that are far more loathsome and dangerous. He’s wearing jeans, sneakers and a black hoodie under a leather jacket, and between that and his goatee, for all the world he could look like just another thirty-something guy in this city trying to get his bicycle repair shop up and running.

Yet a closer look at his face and you can tell he’s not of this century. He belongs not in a bar, but on a windy battlefield, ax in hand, his face splattered with the blood of fallen enemies. A man like that was built to fight, to pillage and ravish. But that face… Rey was struck by it the first time she saw him, tipped off that he would give her reliable information if the price was right. She came to Kalinka to find him, wondering how she’d know who he was.

She knew. His features look like they’ve been lifted straight from a Renaissance painting. Cold, aristocratic, impossibly handsome. She was reminded of a book she’d studied in college, _The Prince_ by Machiavelli, and indeed there is a ruthlessness to him that speaks of an era of carnage, of plagues, of death striking so often and so swiftly that life must enjoyed all the more. Quite paradoxical for an immortal demon, but he was lucky to make it to thirty before selling his soul.

Rey walks up to him, trying to get her nerves under control.

“Two Stoli on the rocks for me and the lovely lady,” Kylo says before he even greets her. “We’ll be in the booth. Keep ‘em coming.”

He puts out his cigarette and stands up. She’s only ever seen him sitting at the bar and she’s taken aback at how tall he is. With that frame it’s not surprising that he should tower over her, yet all of a sudden she’s weak in the knees. She’s taken down bigger guys in a brawl, but this is a different kind of fight altogether.

“I’m pleasantly surprised you actually showed up,” he tells her as he leads her to a booth in the back of the bar. “You’ve got guts. I like that in a woman.”

“I hope that’s only a figure of speech,” Rey says, sitting on the leather seat and holding herself a little too straight. Her muscles are so tense she feels like a rubber band about to snap. She unwraps her scarf but doesn’t take off her coat. “What was your nickname back in the day? Kylo the Disembowler?”

“Not even close,” Kylo replies. “Rough translation would be _Kylo of only one stroke_. Right in the chest. I favored the battleaxe.”

She was right then. He really did carry an ax. The bartender brings them their vodkas and Kylo downs his in a single gulp. Rey swallows what she can without spluttering. The trail of fire it leaves in her throat soon blooms in her stomach and makes her unwind a little.

“Charming. Any other anecdotes you wish to share?”

“Let’s save stories of my exploits for the afterglow.” He takes out a pen and paper from his pocket and smirks when he sees her expression. “You were expecting more of a parchment and quill situation, weren’t you? A demon contract will work on any support as long as you can sign it with your blood. I might as well have used a paper napkin.”

She nods and exhales deeply. “So… where do we start?”

The bartender brings Kylo another vodka, which is gone as quickly as the first. Rey finishes hers, struggling to keep up.

“First, the terms,” he says, clicking his pen. “You are in need of my assistance to reach climax through intercourse, requiring, but not limited to, one orgasm. In short, a night of mindless sex.”

Her heart flutters and she looks towards the bar, hoping for another drink to get her through this conversation. Kylo, on the other hand, seems perfectly casual and matter-of-fact about the whole thing, which makes her even more agitated.

“So is there any information you need to disclose? Physical issues? Kinks? Are you strictly vanilla or more of a leather and latex kind of gal?”

If he’s trying to rile her up, it’s working a little too well. “Well, I wouldn’t know, seeing as I have practically zero experience,” she snaps.

“You’re right, we’ll figure that out later,” he says, his mouth twisting in a half-smile. “What are your ground rules?”

Vodka number two has arrived and this time is goes down easier. “First of all,” she says, “when I say stop, you stop.”

He keeps writing. “Why wouldn’t I stop?”

“Some lesser humans tend to have open interpretations of that word. Others like to role play and prefer to find another term like… _broccoli_.”

This time, he looks up. “You want to stop fucking you if you say _broccoli_?”

She doesn’t know if she’s disgusted by the bluntness of his words or strangely thrilled. Maybe both. Maybe it’s the Stoli speaking.

“That’s not what I was… Never mind. _Stop_ is fine.” She thinks for a moment. “No kissing, no stroking my hair, no terms of endearment. Let’s keep this...”

“Professional.”

“Mechanic.”

“ _No – terms – of – endearment,_ ” he writes down, clearly amused. “All right, _myshka_.”

“Isn’t that a term of endearment right there?”

“Force of habit. It literally means _little mouse_. A testament to your strength and willpower.”

Definitely trying to rile her up. “There’s no need for you to be insulting, you know.”

“Do I? Maybe you like a different type of vocabulary, you naughty little slut.”

She almost spits out her drink. “No. Absolutely not. Write that down,” she insists, tapping the paper with her forefinger. “No referring to me with any term that usually used as a slur against women. And no asking me to call you daddy or whatever.”

“Fine with me. I’d rather hear you scream my name anyway.”

She pretends not to hear him and looks over her shoulder at the bartender. Would a third vodka make things better or worse? She closes her eyes for a moment and tries to regroup.

“What are you expecting as payment? I’ve got money.”

Kylo puts his pen down, crosses his arms and leans back. “Yes, you’ve always been reliable on that front. But this is peculiar mission, so I was thinking of a different type of return on my investment.”

“Meaning?”

“A blowjob.”

“Go fuck yourself.”

They square off for a moment, then Kylo returns to the contract. “Okay, scratch that. Money will do. Three times the amount you usually pay me should cover it, and I’m pretty you’ll end up giving me head for free anyway.”

This time she’s had it. She slams her palms down on the table, making the empty glasses clink. “Who the hell do you think you are to speak to me like that?”

“Someone who’s about to make you come so hard you’ll see stars. Let’s go, _myshka_.”

He folds up the contract, stands up and shoves the paper in the back pocket of his jeans. Rey is dumbfounded. When she rises from the seat, her head is spinning slightly. “Wait. You want to do this _now_?”

“Why, do you have plans?”

“No, but I thought I’d have more time to prepare.”

Kylo gives a gruff little laugh. “Let me guess, you haven’t showered and shaved, and you’re wearing mismatched undies. You think I give a shit?”

“This isn’t about you. It’s for me. The only guy I’ve been with – that high school boyfriend I mentioned – he didn’t exactly make me feel beautiful and confident the one time we had sex. I need this.”

This must sound so ridiculous and futile to him – so _human_. But she refuses to play any games, even with a demon. Kylo is surprised at her reply and considers the matter for a moment.

“If it makes any difference,” he says, leaning closer, “I’ve always found you very attractive. You’ve got beautiful eyes and a nice ass. I asked for payment because that’s what demons do, but I don’t need the money, and you know better than to think that I’m capable of charity. I want to get you naked and fuck you, that’s the honest truth.”

Rey realizes her mouth is slightly open and she presses her lips together. She must be crazy, but she really does think he’s honest. Perhaps more honest than any man she’s ever met. He’s not trying to seduce her, to sugarcoat his words, to wheedle something out of her. It’s all out in the open. All written on the contract.

“Right. Okay. Right.”

Kylo zips up his jacket and she bundles up again. As he passes by the bar, he slams a hundred dollar bill on the counter, exchanges a few words in Russian with the bartender, then reaches for a bottle of Stoli that’s still two thirds full, presumably the one they’ve been drinking from.

They head out into the freezing cold. Kylo doesn’t seem to feel it; his neck is exposed and he’s not even wearing gloves. Rey wonders how hot to the touch his skin is. Unlike vampires, demons do have a functional circulatory system, though it’s not blood pumping through their veins, but some sort of incandescent plasma.

Soon she’ll know, she tells herself as they walk the two blocks separating them from the hotel where Kylo lives. That’s another thing she knows about demons: they have no concept of home and very little regard for property. They only amass money so they can acquire gold bars and rare gems, not so they can live a life of luxury. They pile up their treasures and keep them hidden somewhere, though they might brag to other demons about being the owner of such and such gem, as a sort of insurance for the centuries to come.

And indeed when they enter Kylo’s suite, she notices, even in the dimness, how bare and tidy it is. The only things that indicate someone is staying there are a laptop on the table and a pile of books on one of the nightstands. The light from the hotel sign right next to the window bathes the room is a crimson glow. She can’t help a smile.

“You chose this room on purpose, didn’t you?”

“Helps me sleep,” he replies, divesting himself of his coat.

She does the same and sets her things down on a chair. He unscrews the bottle of Stoli and takes a few gulps.

“May I?” she asks, holding out her hand.

“Not too much, _myshka_. You’re a lightweight and I’d rather you have your wits about you.”

She takes the bottle and takes two swigs before setting it down, trying hard not to make a face. Vodka neat is rough, but the pleasing heat returns to warm her chest and her limbs loosen.

“One last thing before we start,” Kylo says. “We need to sign the contract.”

He goes to rummage in the nightstand drawer then returns with a needle. He takes the paper from his back pocket, smooths it out on the table then pricks his thumb until a drop of blood drips down. Rey takes the needle from him and does the same.

Kylo stretches his arms and growls in contentment as if he’s getting ready for a particularly grueling workout. “Down to business then. Take off your clothes and sit on the edge of the bed.”

Rey turns her back to him and starts stripping down. She doesn’t know if he’s looking at her while she does, but she senses he’s not. She hears the soft plop of fabric hitting the floor and her faces blazes when she realizes he’ll probably be stark naked by the time she turns around again. Her fingers are trembling so much she struggles to unbutton her pants, but she finally manages to take them off and is left only in her bra and panties. Plain cotton and mismatched, just as he said. What is she doing here? She shivers, breathes in deeply, then goes to sit on the bed.

Kylo isn’t naked. He’s in his boxer shorts, and he looks even more massive than when he’s wearing clothes. He’ll break her. He’ll crush her. This will never work.

His dark eyes scan her body and though she’s terrified, she holds her chin up defiantly.

“I’m going to enjoy this,” he says, “but probably not as much as you are.”

He kneels in front of her, rolls her panties down her legs and pushes her knees apart, settling between her thighs. Before Rey can fully comprehend what’s happening, he dives in and licks down the length of her slit. She’s so startled she nearly slams her knee into his face.

“What are you doing?”

“You’re not serious, are you? I gather even _you_ have heard of a cunnilingus.”

“Of course, but I didn’t think we’d start with that right off the bat.”

“What did you expect we start with? Patty cakes? It’s you who specified that I shouldn’t kiss you.”

“That’s not the problem. Most girls I talk to say that guys usually...”

“Which guys are we talking about here? _Brad from accounting_? I’ve walked this earth for five hundred years and let me tell you, there are few things sweeter than the taste of a woman coming against your mouth.”

Mollified, she falls back on the bed and tries to relax. But she’s more uncomfortable than aroused, and she can’t help but squirm against the strange sensation. Kylo grips her ass tightly, huffing with annoyance.

“Hold still, damn it.”

“I’m sorry, it’s just -”

“Rey.” He stops and looms over her, his dark eyes blazing. _Pillage and ravish._ “Do you want me to stop?”

She just has to say the word, and he will. But she’s come this far. She has to see it through no matter what. “No.”

“Then open up your legs like a good girl and _hold still_.”

She closes her eyes, hoping it’ll help. He’s tickling her. It’s not unpleasant, but it’s just so… wet and sloppy and _intimate_. Kylo really seems to be enjoying himself at least, lapping at her greedily, kneading the flesh of her hips. She finally starts to enjoy the sensation. It’s nice. Very nice. It’s soft and warm.

Then Kylo spreads her wider and starts to suck. The warmth suddenly turns to searing heat and she lets out a gasp, closing her knees again, because his mouth is working her center and the sensation has gone from ten to a hundred in two seconds flat. It knocks the breath out of her.

“Wait – wait,” she pants, but her tone of voice isn’t telling him to wait. It’s telling him to hurry up.

Kylo keeps her firmly in place, and keeps licking and sucking with relish. She arches her back against the jolts of pure electricity that are careening up her body. When he pulls back for air, his plush lips are glistening, and she doesn’t think she’s ever seen anything so obscene, or so sensual.

“Fuck,” he breathes. “Your cunt tastes so good, I could do this for hours.”

When he starts again, she knows she won’t last five minutes. She’s brought herself to orgasm on her own before, but it’s nothing compared to what she’s experiencing now. With every slow, thorough stroke of his tongue, Kylo is tightening a coil of nerves that is ready to snap at any moment.

“Are you close?” he pants against her.

“I – I – _oh god_...”

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

His right hand travels down her thigh and he roughly thrusts two fingers inside of her. A wail escapes her throat as a wave of pleasure slams into her. Her muscles tense as if bracing against it and she cries out with the delicious exertion of it before falling back on the bed, limp and satiated.

Kylo draws back and stands up. Her lids are half closed but she can see him sucking on his fingers like he’s trying to enjoy every last bit of a delicious meal.

“Thanks,” she says once she’s caught her breath. “That was… really good.”

“That was nothing,” he replies. “We’re just getting warmed up. I’m stopping until you’re hoarse from screaming, _myshka,_ even if it takes all night.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who left kudos or commented! I took a loooong time to update because reasons, but now I basically have nothing else to occupy my evenings until September other than writing fanfic, so that's good news for everyone who enjoys a trashy demon sex Reylo AU every now and then. Stay safe and take care everyone <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mind the tags, dear readers, this chapter is basically 2000 words of pure unabashed smut and definitely not for you if you don't like rough stuff.

Kylo was fifteen when he lost his virginity. He’d gone to his first battle a boy and had returned a man, drunk on blood, alcohol and victory. The bawd, one of many who made themselves available at the edges of the camp, was at least twice his age and she cursed like a sailor, berating him for his inexperience before taking matters into her own hands. In the following centuries, he’d more than made up for it. He’d known all kinds of women: shy maidens with doleful eyes, buxom peasant girls with healthy appetites, gorgeous courtesans in corsets with a flawless knowledge of every kink known to man. He’d never had sex with a female demon, of course; the only interactions demons had with each other were carefully negotiated transactions. Sex would necessitate endless bargaining that made it hardly worth the trouble when it was so much easier to seduce a human anyway.

These last few years, Kylo had started to feel a certain weariness. Women came in many varieties, but he’d refined his own taste to such an extent that he wasn’t easily satisfied and sex was merely an amusing distraction that seldom led him to any sort of release. More and more, he found himself thinking fondly of his first time, longing for his youthful lust, the fever left over from battle, the crude words of the bawd, the impression that if he hadn’t died today, he may well die tomorrow, and that this night might be the last.

This is different, Kylo reflects as he observes Rey, bathed in the red light that glows outside his window. She’s lying on the bed, wearing only her black bra, watching him intently. His mission, the one he’s been hired for, is crystal clear, and he’s just cleared the first hurdle. He hadn’t been joking when he’d told her he could lick her cunt for hours; he never tired of that, just like he never tired of the taste of vodka or a nice juicy steak. In fact, he fully plans to go down on her again if she’s too raw to take him in after he’s fucked her for too long. But for now, he has to figure out from which angle to attack.

She’s not technically a virgin, and she must beat off once in a while or else she would’ve asked him how she would know whether she’d had an orgasm or not when they were drawing up the contract. If those pointy-toothed morons are after her, it’s because her mind is still a blank slate in that respect, unattached to one person, unmarred by a particular memory. She might not know it, but she’s seeking it, lusting after it, after that one perfect moment of completion where all the pieces click into place.

He thoroughly enjoys being the one to figure out that particular puzzle. A demon never met an enigma he didn’t want to solve.

Kylo stretches his shoulders and cracks his neck, then takes off his boxer shorts before lying down next to Rey. Her eyes dart down to his cock; she manages not to flinch, though he can tell she’s calculating whether it’s going to fit or not.

“Don’t worry, _myshka_ ,” he tells her. “It looks bigger than it feels.”

Rey gives a short nod and turns her head towards the ceiling, waiting for him to start. He debates asking her to take her bra off, then decides it can wait. He may have been sucking on her clit a minute ago, but intercourse seems to make her altogether more nervous. No more fooling around, she seems to be thinking.

He rolls over to position herself between her legs, easing himself in gradually. Rey closes her eyes and breathes in deeply, as if this were some kind of goddamn yoga class with particularly grueling stretching exercises. Kylo keeps moving at a leisurely pace so as not to scare her, but he can tell he’s not going to get anywhere this way.

What does Rey want? Certainly not anything vanilla. Not someone who spends her nights hunting the vermin of the underworld, and is currently in bed with a demon. No terms of endearment, that much was clear, but then the other spectrum of sex talks is a no-go as well. No dirty little whore, no daddy’s girl. Kylo’s interest lies in the gray area in between, and as far as sex talk goes, he prides himself an expert with the voice to back it up.

“You like that?” he rumbles in her ear. “When I fuck you nice and slow?”

Rey’s breath hitches, but she’s still tense, eyes closed, muscles clenched. The thighs on that girl, he swears she could damn near break his rib cage.

“I can keep going slow,” he continues, “but I’m guessing you’re in need of something else.”

He accelerates slightly and she presses her lips together, fighting back a moan. “No, nothing else,” she says finally, struggling to concentrate.

“I knew it the first very time I saw you walk into Kalinka. That girl can take it.”

Her eyes shoot open. “What are you talking about?”

“You don’t want it nice and slow. You want me to pound your cunt so hard you won’t be able to walk straight tomorrow.”

“I don’t -” She’s interrupted by the moan she can’t hold in any longer, and a beautiful flush is building up on her chest. This is just like when he taunted her at Kalinka and got her all riled up, except now the riling up is taking a different form altogether.

“Are you quite sure?” He slaps the side of thigh, not enough to hurt but just enough to make a pleasing sound.

“What the _fuck_ was that?” she says through gritted teeth.

She grips his biceps and makes to shove him off, but he grabs her ass and flips her so that she’s on top of him. His hips jerk upwards, filling her in one sharp thrust. She throws her head back and groans loudly, and for a moment, they’re both moving in sync, caught in their pleasure, and Kylo is so aroused and enthralled by this woman who both hates his guts and loves what he’s doing to her that he laughs.

Rey’s expression changes. It’s like he accidentally flipped a switch. “You think this is funny?” she flares.

“It’s hard to think when you’re impaling yourself on my cock like that,” he replies, and laughs again.

“I swear, if you don’t stop right now, I will beat you to a pulp.”

“Go ahead. Wipe the grin off my face.”

She does. She punches him square in the jaw. Kylo lies there stunned for a moment, then instinctively sits up and grasps her wrists, bending one of her arms against her back so she can’t move. Rey cries out in pain, but he’s still moving within her, more roughly now, and he dimly wonders how much of that pain is also pleasure.

“That hurt like hell,” he growls.

“You fucking deserved it.”

He grins and slides his free hand into her hair, gripping it tight. “I bet it made you wet.”

“You’re disgusting,” she hisses. Yet the rougher he is, the more rapid her breathing, and soon each breath is a throaty moan, each movement an attempt to make him slide deeper inside of her.

Rey doesn’t want to playact. She doesn’t want to beg, or be spanked, or pretend she’s coy and submissive. Kylo did, in fact, read her perfectly. She fucks _exactly_ like she fights. The struggle is what turns her on, and if he wants to bring her to her peak, he has to show some muscle.

He tugs a little harder on her hair. “Am I disgusting? I’m about to make you come, what does that say about you?”

“Shut up,” she pants, her eyes rolling back into her head, her arms and legs taut and trembling with the effort it takes to keep riding him.

“Tell you what. I’ll shut up if you take your bra off already and let me suck on those gorgeous tits.”

He releases her wrist and Rey scrambles to undo the clasp of her bra. She’s right on the edge, but he wants to draw this out as long as he can. He holds on to her waist, forcing her to slow to a stop, and concentrates on her breasts. They’re smallish but perfectly shaped, her nipples dark in the red light and already hard as pebbles. Just the way he likes it. He takes a wicked pleasure in licking them languidly, swirling his tongue around the tip before sucking with greed until Rey is nearly wailing with frustration.

“How about that?” Kylo teases her, then swipes his tongue between her breasts, tasting the salt of her sweat on her soft skin with relish. “Getting impatient? You’re going to have to ask for it.”

“Make me come,” she demands. “Make me come _now_.”

He throws her down on her back and thrusts into her with such force that he feels like he’s going to split her in two, but Rey simply eggs him on, digging her nails into his back while her cries echo in the room and her tight, hot cunt quivers around his cock, and before Kylo can fully understand what’s happening, a familiar tension builds up in the pit of his stomach and his balls tighten and suddenly spurts of cum are spilling out of him while he collapses over her with a groan.

It takes him a moment to start thinking again. Fuck. _Fuck_. When’s the last time this happened? So long ago he can’t even remember. A decade at the very least. He props himself on his side. Rey’s lips are slightly parted, her eyes squeezed shut, her breath ragged, her body covered in a fine sheen of sweat. She’s magnificent.

He rises from the bed and goes over to the table to take a swig of vodka. Enjoyable as this was, he can’t tell if it was a fluke, a natural consequence of abstaining for too long, or… something else. He brings the bottle to his lips again. Only one way to find out.

“Get on your hands and knees,” he says.

Rey bends her head back and looks at him. Her gaze is black with arousal. “You ordering me around now?”

He slams the bottle back down on the table. “If you want to spar, we’ll spar. In the end I’ll still be fucking you from behind, and you’ll still be muffling your screams into a pillow.”

This time, she’s the one who laughs, and it sends a shudder down his spine.

*

They keep at it all night. Every time Rey puts up a fight, and every time Kylo comes right after she does, swearing loudly, his head spinning and his body racked with violent waves of sensation. When she can’t take any more, he can’t resist going down on her again, just like he planned. Rey’s stamina is outstanding, but by then she’s nothing but flushed skin, smudged mascara and hoarse moans, as if all the bones in her body have liquefied.

“Yes – yes, just like that – keep going, Kylo, please… Please, more, _please_...”

She’s too exhausted, too aroused to fight now, and he's not fighting either. He indulges to the fullest, keeps licking and sucking until she nearly passes out from the force of her orgasm. When it’s over, she barely stirs, just wraps herself in the bed cover and falls asleep. Kylo doesn’t usually sleep more than three or four hours a night, but he’s drained, literally and figuratively. He has just enough time to tell himself that no one dead or alive will mistake her for a virgin now before slipping into a deep slumber.

When he wakes, the room is filled with the gray light of dawn, and everything is still. Rey moves a little next to him. She’s so beautiful sleeping there that he’s overwhelmed with a feeling of covetousness. She’s a gem hidden in plain sight, a gem he uncovered and claimed for himself, and now he can’t imagine letting anyone else have her.

She opens her eyes sleepily and smiles. He forgets where they are, what era this is, the contract, everything. At this moment, they’re just a man and a woman, lying in bed together. There’s a mischievous glint in her eyes and she curls closer to him, tracing her finger down his chest all the way down to his cock. Fuck, she barely touched him and he’s hard already, so hard he could start all over again. But Rey has something else in mind.

She takes him in her mouth and he’s sure it’s the best goddamn thing he ever experienced in his life. He threads his fingers in her tangled hair, softly now, guiding her until he’s almost ready to burst, then stopping her gently.

“I want to come inside of you,” he tells her, and takes her hand to lead her back up.

She’s wet, open, ready for him, and for all their wild fucking last night, the pleasure is even sharper now. Screw the contract. It expired at first light of day. Kylo murmurs words in the crook of her neck, words in Russian from very long ago – _my princess, my beauty, my lioness_ – and when he comes, she brushes her thumb against his cheekbone and lifts her mouth slightly to kiss him.

They fall back asleep, nestled in each other’s arms.

A few hours later, he wakes again. Rey is gone, and the room is cold. No, _he’s_ cold. He’s cold and sweating and there’s a horrible ache inside his chest.

He presses his palm against his biceps and loses his breath. It’s barely a whisper, but it’s unmistakable. His heart has started beating again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Demon sex, now with extra plot, I guess :D Thanks to everyone who gave kudos and commented <3


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